Just a number
by CALLEN37
Summary: A one shot written after the season 4 ep with the Cyanide. Callen discovers sometimes a number can be more than just a number as much as a letter can be more than just a name.


A/N Well guys Look what I found stuck on little Timmy, I fix it up and finished it and here is a little one shot just for you, Based after the Season 4 episode with the Cyanide, but not really any spoilers in it. So Enjoy.

* * *

Just a number.

Callen sat back, his last case had not gone so well and he was still feeling a bit shaky after being forced to drink Cyanide. The antidote he had been given helped, well, he was not dead.

Although he could have killed Deeks when he wanted him to sit out the rest of the operation, just because he had dropped something.

He sat in his local coffee shop waiting on his breakfast order; He had been to see that kid whose dad had turned out to be a homegrown domestic terrorist.

Walking into the backyard of the foster home, he had had a few flashbacks.

Picking up the baseball mitt and ball, he had tossed a few back and forth, hoping the kid would be ok. Although he did not regret arresting his father he did regret being responsible for placing another child in the system.

Sam had sat him down as he had watched the boy broken looking, driving off in the backseat of a child services workers car and he had tried explaining to him that it was not his fault it was the boy's, father's fault for trying to kill millions of people.

However, it did not feel that way especially as he knew what the system was like, although he knew the boy would hold out hope of either being adopted or reunited with his father, Callen knew better, things did not always work out that way.

"So how did you sleep?" He had asked with the first toss of the ball.

"Pretty good!" The kids answered with a wry smile.

Callen had had to smile back at that, "You know if you sleep well the first night, it's usually a good home." He had admitted.

"Yeah, how do you know that?" The boy had asked him.

"I have it on pretty good authority." He had replied and tossed him the ball again.

On his way out, he had stopped to talk with the foster mother, an older Latino woman, who was friendly and warm. Callen had liked her, his whole opinion of her greatly increased as the social worker had turned up.

"So how's number five." He had heard on his way out.

"He's a boy and has a name; he's not just a number." She had said as she had closed the door.

* * *

That sentence had bugged Callen for the rest of the day….he didn't have a name, was he just a number?

He stared at his coffee and found himself staring at an old man a table across from him.

The man looked at Callen and smiled.

"Are you alright son?" he asked. He had noticed Callen staring at the tattooed number on his arm.

"Sorry." Callen said feeling self-conscious and looking away.

"No please, don't look away. I am proud to have been a survivor of the Polish death camp; my name is Levi, "He said taking a drink of his tea.

Callen looked amazed at the light in the old man's eyes.

"You have the look of being a survivor yourself." Levi said, "Were you in a war?" he asked.

Callen shook his head, "No, I'm a Federal Agent; I've had a few close calls though." He said.

Levi shook his head, "No son, that's not it, there is something about you…Tell me, what is it about the number on my arm that fascinates you so much?"

Callen looked at him and realized this would be the only time he could ask someone who might understand.

"Did you hate being just a number…not…not having a name?" He asked softly.

Levi smiled at the young man. "I have always had a name, even when I didn't know it. I have** never **been just a number."

"You didn't know your name?" Callen asked stunned.

Levi smiled.

"I was separated from my mother when I was four, I couldn't remember my name. I was known by my number for a while in the camp; after the war, 9th May 1945; they liberated my camp and I found my father. I had my mothers name and the Allies helped me find him, I was 16 when I learnt my name was Levi I had been 478 before then, the last 3 numbers on my arm."

"I don't know my name," Callen said softly.

Levi's eyebrows rose a bit, "What do people call you?" he asked.

"Just G." Callen said.

"Well, it's not a number," Levi smiled, "And who said G can't be a name."

Callen sighed; surprisingly he found it easy to talk to this man, "My boss, she told me that it was just a letter."

Levi smiled at the boy, not in a condescending sort of way or even in pity, he just smiled; "G, until I was Levi my name was 478, it was a name not a number."

"But my Boss said that G was a letter not a name, and if I told her what the G stood for then she'd call me it, but I couldn't tell her I didn't know." Callen said; he was he had to admit surprised that this was bothering him so much. "She said it years ago; I don't understand why I am so bothered about it."

* * *

"If I would have known it would have bothered you so much I wouldn't have said it Mr. Callen." Hetty said walking up behind him and taking the chair next to him as Levi stood up.

"Greta," He said as the woman joined him.

"Levi," she smiled as Callen gave her a look realizing she hadn't used her real name…Or had she.

"You too know each other?" Callen said stunned.

Hetty looked at Callen, she smiled and patted Levi's arm, "We have been friends since childhood. How do you too know each other?" she asked intrigued.

"G was telling me about his boss, a mean lady who should have known better and told him his letter wasn't a name." Levi admonished with a smile.

"I…" Callen started to protest.

Hetty laughed, "It must have been fate you both running into each other, at this coffee shop, I didn't think this was on your route to work Mr. Callen." Hetty said.

Callen shrugged, "It isn't I went to see the boy from yesterday." He said replying to her but keeping his answer cryptic for the sake of their companion.

"Did he settle into his foster placement?" Hetty asked

Callen nodded, "He slept. Always a good sign." He admitted to her, "I saw his social worker as I left. She asked him how number 5 was; she numbers the children on her list." He said sadly, unfortunately, he had been a number on some social workers list.

"Were you ever referred to by a number?" Levi asked.

Callen nodded. "We were numbered by who was on the list the longest." He admitted.

"What number were you?" Levi asked interested.

"One." Callen said, "I was the first on the list and the last to leave."

Levi looked over at the younger man and could see the conflict in his eyes.

"You have a name, it is inside you and one day, when it is time you will find it." He said looking him right in the eye. "And more than anything else there is a name that no one can take from you. That your parents gave you on the day you were born."

Callen looked up with renewed interest. "You know what that was?" he asked.

"Yes…Son." Levi said.

Callen smiled and bit the inside of his lip, holding back the tears that threatened to fall, "I…I have to go thank you." He said standing and shaking the old man's hand.

Levi stood as well, "It was nice to meet you G. Callen." He said and watched as he walked off.

Turning to Hetty, he sipped the last of his drink.

"So that is Clara's boy, I thought he looked familiar, Nikolai would be very disappointed to hear what I have heard. You could have at least let him have his name."

Hetty laughed, "Maybe one day Levi Reznikov we can tell him together."


End file.
